Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MAKE OVER~~~!

(OOC: Please read this while you listen to this: MAKE OVER! )

A department store. For the sake of this post, it shall be known as "The-Store-who-shall-not-be-named-mart."

12 AM. 0 Hour.

An arm security alarm, guarding against any forced entry. Ever alert to an outside threat, ready to call police to it's aid and protect the merchandise with in.

Guarding the whole parameter, but not inside the store.

Children's departments. Giant rack of stuffed purple and pink elephants. A man leaps from he pile of toys, satisfied no one is left with in the building. The man is Hound, a renegade without a cause. A man of the land, a man who spent seven years living in the woods, hunting, gathering, and living, following the rules of nature.

Now he is in a new world, a concrete jungle, and once again he must adapt. He can no longer remain who he was, a forest dweller. He had to change to meet the new world.

In many ways it was the same as living in the forest. A normal person, in bright fruit coloured clothes, smelling of deodorant and cologne, stomping around the forest is highly noticeable. They stick out like a sore finger.

But a man, with no smell but his own natural smell, dressed in furs and camouflage, moving silently like an animal is almost impossible to hunt. The perfect hunting attire, which is required for survival.

If Hound wanted to survive, he had to dress for success. As such, his first stop was personal hygiene section of the store. Grabbing soaps, deodorants, shaving kits and the like he moved on to the men's public washroom. He stripped down and tossed his told rags into the garbage. Naked, and free, he felt at ease, but now was not the time to enjoy such a pleasure. It was time; to clean.

It took nearly an hour just to get the layer of grim of his skin. He was no longer questionably of mixed decent, he was clearly Caucasian again. He ran back out and found a beard trimmer, which he promptly used to give himself a simplistic military style, which was the best he could hope for, doing it himself. When he was done with his head, he moved to his face.

"Good bye, old friend." He said, choking back a tear as he began to remove his beard. 10 minutes later, and 5 razors later, it was done. He once again had a clean shaven face.

Hound was no clean, with a less than lame hair cut, and clean shaven. He applied a few layers of deodorant and some less than obnoxious cologne. Sadly, his sense of smell made putting such things on a tad self torturous now, but he had no choice. He would eventually grow use to it, but for now he had too, to blend in.

Still naked he strolled through the clothing department and selected a few changes of clothes and proceeded to try them on in the isles. After selecting a few that fit, he finished dressing, grabbed some boots and then got down to real business.

Hound dashed over to the camping section of the "The-Store-who-shall-not-be-named-mart," and grabbed a large duffel bag from a rack. His first stop was the Hunting Bows. In the wild he had spent many a night carving his own, and practising. It took months for him to be able to create a proper bow that would not sap after a few uses, and even longer to master carving straight arrows. He left the self crafted bow in the woods, fearing it being taken from him by local law enforcement.

But thanks to man kind, he could obtain and conceal one with ease. He grabbed a folding bow and arrow. It was spring loaded and capable of deploying in seconds. The trick was going to be the arrows. He would have to keep them in a quiver, concealed in the duffel bag while in the city. But Hound knew from recent experience he could no longer risk walking around unarmed.

He loaded up several dozen arrows and a quiver into the duffel bag, hooked the folding bow to his belt, beside his hunting knife and continued to loot the store for the various mundane items he would no doubt require in his travels.

When Hound was satisfied the store had nothing more to provide he headed to the back of the store. He found in the manager's office a floor safe. He had never done something like this before, but he took a chance at it, hoping his super hearing would do the trick.

Despite his super hearing it still took nearly an hour before the door finally opened, revealing a large heavy envelope, the earnings from yesterday which were meant for morning deposit. Hound had mixed feelings, he knew the insurance would replace everything stolen, or damaged, and it was all coming from "The-Store-who-shall-not-be-named-mart," but still he felt bad. Still he needed to survive, and he needed to start somewhere.

Grabbing the cash which had somewhere around 15, 000 dollars in unmarked American money he headed to the back of the door. Hound opened the emergency door, the alarm immediately went off, and so did Hound, disappearing into the cool morning air, the sun preparing to rise on a new day.